The Wave That Destroys and The Wind That Calms It
by Gizmo's-Land-Of-Gadgets
Summary: A threat directed towards Iceland at a recent world meeting has caused Norway to go on a bit of a viking rampage. The aftermath is inevitable, but will Denmark be able to snap him out of it and offer some comfort? A/N: Rated T for violence and NorNor going slightly insane. Reviews would be both appreciated as well as helpful! :3
1. The Storm Rages Onward

_Tap. Tap. Tap. _So much noise. _Tap. Tap. Tap. _So much tedious arguing. _Tap._ Pointless. _Tap._ Unnecessary. _Tap._ Nerve-grating- And that was when the pen he had been tapping against his coffee mug had snapped in half. Not that anyone really paid any mind to it though, as they were all caught up in their own disagreements. The Kingdom of Norway had been sitting relatively quietly amongst all the fighting and bickering, his anger slowly building to the point where he was now on the verge of permanently silencing them all. No one had noticed this fact either, as Norway's expression hadn't changed at all. Well that, and the fact that they were _still bickering like a group of children._ He couldn't make out what any of them were yelling at each other, not that he really cared all that much. At least, he didn't care until he caught one single phrase that had been uttered by none other than France.

"Oh hon hon hon. Iceland seems easy enough to conquer, no? He'll become French territory in no time."

This one phrase is what caused something in the Nordic country to snap. All the anger that had been growing these past few hours, days, even weeks was coming forth, and it was uncontrollable and bloodthirsty. This specific type of anger had not been felt by him for quite some time. However, he knew it well. It was this very same bloodthirstiness he had felt long ago when he had invaded England as a viking, burning down the church and slaughtering all who were there. And it was this very same emotion that caused him to abruptly rise from his seat and slam both of his fists on the table with all of the strength within him. Now this is what effectively silenced everyone, aside from France who kept prattling on like the idiot he was, unaware of his impending doom.

"What was that France? It sounded a bit like a threat towards Iceland. Now tell me, did you or did you not just threaten him?" He asked, his voice oddly calm and quiet.

"So what if I did? It's not like he can defend himself anyw-" The Frenchman's reply cut short after he had turned to face the Norwegian who's eyes were nothing but rage.

France knew that look all too well. He too had been invaded by Norway and his viking crew once upon a time. The last time he had seen that much fury he had been rather savagely beaten by both Norway and Denmark, losing a large piece of land to them. Things were certainly looking bad for France, again. Especially since Norway had begun to slowly move towards him, and it appeared that no one was going to make a move to stop him. Naturally anyone would be afraid of a once peaceful nation with a violent viking past who had just exploded and gone on the war path.

Said nation had now reached his target looking murderous yet calm despite what he was about to do. He gripped the Frenchman by the collar of his shirt, hoisting him up to eye level in what seemed like an instant. Norway looked France dead in the eye, his deep blue orbs speaking of no mercy, only threats. But the thing was, these threats were not empty. Oh no, they were promises.

"You so much as lay a finger on him and I will slice you open, rip out your intestines, and then proceed to strangle you with them." He said dangerously, his voice but a low growl.

The fear for his life was clear in the others' eyes, causing a rush of adrenaline to course through the former viking's veins. He had to admit, he missed the thrill that came with watching as the enemy struggled. It was sick and twisted, yes. But he certainly was thinking that now. Vikings hadn't exactly been a clan of peacekeepers.

It was then that Denmark and Sweden shared a look, they both knew what would happen if one of them didn't step in. Thus, the Dane slowly approached the other, his tone of voice oddly calm and serious.

"Norge, let him go. Do you really want his blood on your hands? Do you honestly want to start another war over _this?_ Just calm down and let him go. He didn't mean it."

Norway only glanced in Denmark's general direction a moment before turning back to the nearly dead France, tightening his grip.

"Norge!" Denmark threatened in an authoritative tone.

Norway reluctantly let him go, chuckling darkly.

"'Calm down? Let him go? He didn't mean it?' I don't believe you and your LIES!" He yelled in return, making a rather large hole in the wall with his right fist.

He was far beyond pissed off. So much so that he was almost emitting an aura of pure and utter rage that put even Russia to shame. All the other nations had long since fled, excluding the other four Nordics and England who was now tending to a collapsed France. Norway turned to Denmark and quickly moved to pin him against the wall.

"Don't think I won't do the same to you, if you choose to interfere. And I can assure you, the deed will be carried out with your own axe." The Norwegian whispered, scarily calm.

Even scarier yet, he smirked murderously before releasing the other. He then turned to leave, slamming the door behind him with so much force that it actually fell off of the hinges. Anyone within the building who met face to face with Norway would either immediately go in the other direction, or flatten themselves against the wall in order to avoid being in his path. Back in the meeting room, the remaining four Nordics shared a look. Between Finland and Iceland it was a look of both fear and confusion. But between Sweden and Denmark it was a look of understanding. They once again knew what was going to happen, the emotional downfall that would follow all of this.

Sweden nodded towards the door as if to say 'Go stop him before he hurts himself.' Which Denmark responded to with a brief nod as he turned to follow the poor, tortured soul. For he was the only one who truly knew how to calm him down, and that was exactly what he intended to do.


	2. The Aftermath

_A/N: Hey everyone, I do apologize for quite literally taking a month to post the final chapter. I hope none of you died from the suspense. . Life got in the way in the form of school and the flooding of my property. But I thought since I'm literally trapped inside my house and cannot get to school why not complete this and have it up for Easter! Hope you're all having a fantastic Easter by the way! :3 Enjoy my little Easter treat for you all~ c:_

Norway had no control over anything, for any longer. Everything he had held back since the Kalmar Union had been abolished was making its presence known. The rage. The grief. The guilt. He had been bottling everything up out of fear. He feared he would hurt someone, for what if his viking blood took control once more? And now here he was, facing the very thing he feared most. _He had lost control and he had nearly slaughtered someone because of it._ What was wrong with him?

Despite the raging turmoil within himself, Norway could express nothing but anger and rage. No matter what emotions he felt, his mind twisted it until all he could see was red. It felt as though his own mind was turning against him, leaving nothing but insanity in its wake. He threw things, smashed them into as many little pieces as possible but yet it still didn't seem to appease these manifestations.

That was how Denmark found Norway, amongst a pile of rubble seemingly losing his mind. It was a heartbreaking sight to say the least, but it was also not an unfamiliar one. The only difference between then and now was the amount of damage surrounding what was once a room. But if he had to judge what had been the most broken, he would say the man standing in the middle of the room was exactly that and more. The echoing silence was eerie compared to the resounding crashes that could be heard prior. The only sound to be heard now was the erratic breathing of Norway as he raised his hand to violently knock down a vase, harshly kicking the table it had stood on against the wall. All of this caused the Dane to flinch, but he knew well enough to not interfere just yet. Interference meant later regrets shared between the two.

When it seemed like all hints of the bull-like rage had disappeared from the others' posture, Denmark carefully approached him almost like one would a wounded animal. But he never took more than two miniscule steps at at time though, for one wrong move would be about as catastrophic as stepping on a landmine. "Norge?" He asked gently, stopping dead in his tracks in order to assess the situation. "You alright?"

Norway stood there a moment, having heard the question but not really registering it. He had been so caught up in those hateful emotions gripping him like a vice that he hadn't even noticed the Dane enter the room. His back currently to the other, he blinked once and answered through gritted teeth. "I'm fine."

Denmark sighed quietly at his response, running a hand through his hair which served as a brief distraction.

"Tell me Lukas, when exactly did we start lying to each other?" He inquired, a momentary inflection of sadness to the question. It wasn't the tone behind it that suggested as such, but rather the way he said it. Just the subtle way he stressed certain words more than others, the mere way he held himself in this very moment, gave way to his true feelings. Norway may not have been able to see him, but he knew Denmark well enough to tell when there was even a slight change in the others' way of speech. He could certainly tell the severity of the Dane's intentions from the moment his human name had been spoken. To be blunt, it terrified the hell out of him.

It also angered him somewhat for reasons that seemed to be unknown. The Norwegian felt as though his privacy was being invaded despite the fact the man behind him's indirect and direct involvement. So as one could imagine, his next words came out of his mouth in a rather harsh manner.

"That depends, _Mathias._" Norway said the name as if it were poison in his mouth, almost like he was mocking the very idea of it and everything it stood for. "Would you rather me tell the truth? Or would you rather have me lie as you did to me so many years ago?!" He shouted as he finally turned to face the other.

Each and every word that spilled forth from his lips was cruel and of malicious intent. He immediately regretted it but said nothing. The damage had already been done; there was no possible phrase that could be strung together that would have the power to fix it. The effect of such words on the Dane was also near instantaneous.

"Is that what this is all about?! I lied in order to _protect_ you!" Denmark snapped back, the hurt painfully clear in his voice.

"Protect me from what?! You 'protected' me from _nothing_! The only thing you managed to do was drive us all apart!"

"Are you blind?! He had been planning to take you away from me since the Viking Age!"

"I'm not your damn possession to claim." Norway hissed, moving to leave. At this point, it was more sadness than anger that was fuelling his words; more guilt than hatred that was compelling him to flee. But he didn't even make it past the threshold. As he stormed past Denmark and swung open the door he felt his legs give out. As soon as his hand released the doorknob, he collapsed onto his knees and immediately began to sob quietly. He was emotionally exhausted, his very soul having reached its limit.

Any and all anger from their previous argument disappeared from Denmark's face at the sight before him. This exact moment is what he had been anxiously awaiting since the Norwegian's rampage at the world conference. The aftermath is generally referred to it as.

He sat down beside him on the floor and immediately wrapped his arms around the other, pulling him close. There wasn't really much else he could say or do that would be of any comfort to Norway. Lying and saying that everything would be alright would only trigger another argument between the two of them, for they both knew that there was no truth to that statement. Such deceitful and cliche words were of no value in the real world. And so they remained, desperately clinging to each other for what seemed like infinity as the thunder boomed and the lightning flashed around them. It was as if the gods they once believed in were too expressing their anguish.

"I'm sorry.." The Norwegian nation croaked out, voice hoarse from all the yelling and crying that had taken place. He sounded weak, small even. And oh, how he detested that fact.

"Shh..you know you don't have to apologize to me." Denmark replied softly, pulling Norway closer to him still.

"Yes, I do. Even if you won't admit it, I know that everything I've said has done nothing but hurt you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

The Dane placed a hand under the others' chin, lifting his head so he would look at him. "I know you didn't mean it." He leaned down to briefly kiss his lips. "Now tell me, what's been bothering you? Ever since Sweden left us years ago you've been more on edge than ever. I've been worried."

"I..don't know. I guess I've just been.."

"Bottling up your emotions? You can't do that to yourself. I know you're not one to openly express how you're feeling in public, but at least let _me_ know, okay? I'm always here to listen when you need me to be."

"Takk. You stupid Dane." Norway muttered as he snuggled closer to him, burying his head in the others' chest.

Denmark chuckled. "Love you too, Norge."

And with that, the storm disappeared. For with every storm there is a trigger, and with every wave that crashes against the shore there is a wind that calms it. Whether it be the turmoil within someone, or just another meteorological occurrence. The principle always remains the same. In this case the storm is Norway; a poor soul who allowed his pent up emotions to take control, and help him destroy everything in the process. The wind was Denmark, a significant individual who held the power to both rile up and calm down the whirlwind inside the other. Together they keep each other balanced. Perhaps it was fate that led these two together. Or perhaps they were simply meant to be; two souls intertwined in an unbreakable bond. They are the wave that destroys, and the wind that calms it.


End file.
